


An Inconvenient Swan

by tartanfics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Animals, Coitus Interruptus, M/M, Public Sex, potentially cracky situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tartanfics/pseuds/tartanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the meme, <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/6487.html?thread=33891671#t33891671">here</a>, to the prompt: Sherlock and John have sex in a park until AN INCONVENIENT SWAN. Beta by <a href="http://miss-sabre.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://miss-sabre.livejournal.com/"><b>miss_sabre</b></a> .</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Inconvenient Swan

_Where did you go? We need  
your statement.  
L._

 _Tomorrow.  
SH_

 _We’re the police, we have  
a schedule to keep, you know.  
L._

Sherlock reads the text, smiles, and has to worm his arm in between his body and John’s to put his mobile back in his pocket. He doesn’t bother to send an answer. Lestrade, he knows, has already given up.

“If I’d known this was what you were dragging me off for I’d have stayed and explained things to the police,” John says. “This” is a tree in Regent’s Park, the suggestion of privacy late evening shadows provide, and Sherlock’s hand underneath his shirt on the small of his back, creeping towards the waistband of his trousers.

“You didn’t want to answer their irrelevant questions any more than I did,” Sherlock says, looking down at him.

“No, but Lestrade’s a nice bloke. I don’t mind making his life easier.”

“You’d still rather be doing this,” Sherlock says right into his ear, just as his fingers creep past John’s belt, splaying against the curve of his arse. John shivers at Sherlock’s warm breath blowing into his ear.

“Not in a bloody park!”

They’re not really concealed. The tree is between them and the path, but it’s not a very wide tree. Fortunately the place is mostly deserted.

“Trust me. Your average passerby is entirely oblivious. No one is going to notice.” He bites the edge of John’s ear. John takes a loud, shaky breath.

“They are if you keep doing that. You know how I--” He turns slightly pink in the cheeks, and tries to push Sherlock back.

Sherlock digs in and holds on, pressing his weight against John and sandwiching him against the tree. “Oh, I know,” Sherlock says, sounding _filthy_. He trails his lips down John’s jaw and pauses over John’s mouth, waiting for the anticipation.

“Sherlock--”

Sherlock cuts him off with his tongue, pressing against his bottom lip and working inwards. John’s hands fist involuntarily in Sherlock’s lapels. Sherlock digs his fingers suddenly into John’s arse as his other hand slides in and begins unbuckling John’s belt.

“Uh,” John stutters against Sherlock’s mouth.

Sherlock, quick and dexterous, already has John’s trousers unbuttoned and unzipped. He pulls back to grin wickedly at John just before his hand works its way in and _grips, oh God._ John feels an undignified noise building in his throat.

The noise never makes it out of its mouth--a completely different noise, from a completely different direction, comes first. It’s a strange sort of... hissing noise. Sherlock pauses, and pulls back slightly. They look at each other for a moment, breathless and puzzled, and then Sherlock turns and looks over his shoulder. He’s blocking John’s view, but then comes another noise like the first, and it starts to sound a bit familiar.

“Is that a--” John murmurs.

“A swan.”

Sherlock removes his hands from John’s pants and steps aside, and there, barely three feet away, is a large, angry, hissing swan. John looks at the powerful, open beak, and zips up his trousers. The swan takes a step closer.

“Maybe this is his mating ground,” John says, feeling a little hysterical. “Doesn’t like other people having sex here.”

“Don’t be stupid. That’s obviously a female swan.”

The swan takes another step closer, stretching its neck up and hissing again. John glances at Sherlock, who’s looking at the swan with undisguised interest. “Sherlock, we should get out of here.”

“Wait, I want to study its behaviour.”

John is about to call him an idiot when the swan advances again, beak open and sharp-looking. It unfurls its wings. “Sherlock!” John yelps, stepping around the tree and grabbing hold of the back of Sherlock’s coat. “We are not being attacked by a swan tonight. It’s too ridiculous.” The swan flaps at them, and Sherlock finally seems to realise that an attack is in fact imminent. He backs away, but the swan gives chase, and this is already too ridiculous.

They make it home all in one piece, and stumble into the living room, gasping and giggling. Sherlock tries to back John against the door, but he shakes his head and puts a hand out against Sherlock’s chest, still laughing. “No. We’ve already been cockblocked by a bloody swan. It’s not happening.”

“That’s hardly a good reason.”

“Yes, it is. We have to get up in the morning and go give Lestrade our statements, because _someone_ objected to doing it tonight. I’m going to bed.”

“Next time I’ll find a park with no swans,” Sherlock offers.

John wants to hit him.


End file.
